After a moment Eli said:
“He didn't want you mad.”
“Cameron?”
“Yes.”
“He thought you'd stop basketball.”
Nia sighed.
“I probably would have stopped him until a doctor saw him.”
Eli looked toward her.
“That's what I told him.”
“What?”
“I said getting checked isn't quitting.”
Nia laughed softly.
“You are annoyingly sensible when you're not arguing with referees.”
Eli smiled.
Tameka sighed.
“Do not encourage him.”
The tension broke slightly.
Then Tameka asked:
“Does his dad know he was hurt?”
Nia looked down.
“Yes.”
Tameka saw enough.
“Oh.”
Nia nodded.
“Exactly.”
They talked for another hour.
No instant friendship.
Tameka was still angry.
Nia still embarrassed.
But facts entered.
Eli had noticed Cameron limping during practice nine days earlier.
He told Marcus.
Cameron insisted it was nothing.
Marcus asked.
Cameron repeated the shoe story.
Marcus believed him.
At Thursday practice, Eli told Cameron again to sit.
Cameron refused.
Saturday, during the second quarter, Cameron’s knee visibly wobbled after a rebound.
Eli told him:
“You're done.”
Cameron said:
“Shut up.”
Then, two possessions later, Cameron planted hard.
The knee gave way.
Eli was trailing him.
He reached around Cameron’s torso and took much of his weight before both boys went down.
Eli’s wrist bent awkwardly against the floor.
He stood first.
Cameron tried.
Could not.
Eli yelled for Marcus.
That was the story.
Simple.
No fight.
No hidden aggression.
No mystery.
Nia drove home thinking about how badly fear wanted a culprit.
Tuesday’s sports-medicine appointment brought better news than she feared and worse news than Cameron wanted.
No major ligament tear.
No surgery.
But enough overuse and irritation that he needed a period away from basketball, rehabilitation exercises under professional guidance, and gradual return only after medical clearance.
Cameron cried in the car.
Not loudly.
He stared through the window while tears ran down his face.
Nia drove five minutes before speaking.
“You can be angry.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Another mile.
Then:
“It’s not fair.”
There.
Nia nodded.
“No.”
“I was playing good.”
“I know.”
“We have regionals.”
“I know.”
“Eli gets my spot.”
Nia looked over.
Cameron immediately looked guilty.
“That sounds bad.”
“It sounds honest.”
“I don't want him to fail.”
“You can be disappointed without wanting him to fail.”
Cameron stared through the windshield.
“Dad says missing season changes everything.”
Nia’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“What do you think?”
“I don't know.”
“Good.”